


You Are Enough

by firstdegreefangirl



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jim to the rescue, Panic Attacks, Pre-Relationship, a little bit of grownup language, or Friendshippy, your choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstdegreefangirl/pseuds/firstdegreefangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maggie calls Jim when she has a panic attack and he comes running. Super fluffy and exactly what it sounds like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are Enough

**Author's Note:**

> So, Maggie and Jim are like my favorite couple, even when they aren't being a couple. This plays off of the scene in 1x03 when Maggie has the panic attack on the balcony.  
> DISCLAIMER: I don't experience panic attacks, so this is based mostly on internet research. Also, I don't own The Newsroom, that honor goes the Aaron Sorkin and his crew.

"Damn it!” Maggie turned the empty pill bottle over in her hands. Her breathing, already fast, quickens more as the Xanax bottle reveals nothing.

 _Lisa really needs to find guys who_ don’t _feel the need to steal my pills._ She thinks.

Maggie sets out for the living room, hoping to find her roommate and work through this latest panic attack.

**Mags,**

**Went out with Jarred again. See you tomorrow!**

**XOXO**

**Lisa**

_Fuck._ Lisa left; she left Maggie alone in an empty apartment with her thoughts at- Maggie pulls out her phone and looks at the time- _2:17 in the morning._

She collapses on the couch, unsure of what to do now, no Xanax and no roommate. The silence becomes overwhelming and she starts to shake.

Maggie knows she’s running out of time to get this elephant off her chest. Once the shaking begins, it’s only a matter of time before Maggie can’t come back down without passing out. 

She has to find someone to talk to her. Someone who understands what she’s going through. 

Almost without thinking, she unlocks her phone and finds the contact. With shaky fingers, she presses “call” and holds the phone to her ear.

_If I can just even my breathing out, maybe he won’t think anything is wrong._

“Maggie?” Jim answers, his voice thick with sleep.

“Jim? Oh thank god.” _Well there went cool, calm and collected._

“Maggie? What do you mean ‘thank god’? What’s wrong?” Jim instantly sounds more awake as his heart leaps into his throat.

“Jim? I-I-I thought I could handle it. It’s just that Lisa’s gone and- and my pills-“ Maggie is starting to panic again, and it shows.

“Maggie, are you having a panic attack?” Jim asks the question he already knows the answer to and is answered by heavy, scared breathing. “Okay. Take a deep breath. I’m leaving now, but I’m still a 20 minute cab ride out.” He holds the phone against his shoulder, pulling on pants and a t-shirt. “You’re going to be fine. Maggie? Are you breathing?”

“Keep talking. I can’t stand the silence.”

“Xanax?”

“Gone. Lisa’s dumbass boyfriends. Don’t stop talking. Please.” She sounds so desperate that Jim himself is worried for her.

“Okay. I won’t. I’m walking to the elevator now. There shouldn’t be a problem getting a cab at 2:30 in the morning.”

“Oh, god. I didn’t think about it being that early. Jim, I’m so sorry. It’s fine. I can deal with it.”

“Maggie. No. You can’t. And it’s fine. I’ve been up with far less sleep doing far worse things than talking pretty girls down from panic attacks. I’m in front of the building now. Here comes a cab. Did you know that they’re yellow so they can be more easily seen in traffic?” Maggie faintly hears a car door open and close. Jim tips the phone away from his face and gives the driver Maggie’s address.

“I’m in the cab now. 20 minutes and I’ll be there. Just hang on.”

Jim spends the next 20 minutes telling Maggie everything he can see out the window (who walks their dog at three in the morning?) and, when he runs out of things to say, he starts reciting random facts (did you know that toilets flush in E-flat? New York is the most populous city in America. I think it’s funny, there’s so many people here and I still get lonely sometimes. We tend to get so caught up in our little corners of the world that we forget other places even exist. Why is it so easy to feel alone in a crowd?) Jim knows he’s talking mostly to himself now; Maggie just needed to focus on the cadence of his voice. He’s careful to keep it slow and soothing.

“Okay. We just pulled up out front. I’ll be up in two minutes. Is the door unlocked?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. I’m in the elevator now. Just hang in there. Alright, I’m at your door now. I’m gonna hang up now; is that okay?”

Jim opens the door to Maggie’s apartment and finds her slumped over on the couch, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. He rushes to kneel in front of her and takes her wrist, pressing two fingers against it.

“Sniper fire. You’re gonna be okay, Maggie. I promise. Hey, look at me.”

When she obliges, Jim’s heart nearly breaks for the broken sadness he sees in Maggie’s eyes. _Someone shattered this girl and left the pieces for someone else._

“You are enough.” When Jim murmurs this to himself, confusion clouds the anguish on her face.

“Maggie, listen to me. Whoever, whatever is making you feel like you have to do better, like you aren’t worthy of what you have, they’re dead wrong. That’s a crock of crap. You. Are. Enough."

This time she draws a shaky breath and collapses against his shoulder. Jim can feel the tearstains soaking his t-shirt but his arms immediately wrap around her and begin rubbing slow, even circles across her back.

_It’s not like Jim is new to pretty girls crying on his shoulder; it’s just always been Mac before. Spending 22 months embedded in war zones tends to do that to people._

Jim continues whispering sweet nothings to Maggie as he waits for her to regain control of her breathing. His voice gives her an anchor to reality, and the sobbing eventually stops.

Only then does Maggie realize she’s got Jim’s shirt held so tightly that she’s stretching the fabric. Instantly, she lets go and smoothes it back out.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I’m ruining your shirt. Oh my god.”

Thankfully, Jim stops her before Maggie has another panic attack.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. It’s just a t-shirt. It’s fine. Maggie, I promise you, it’s fine.” He draws her hands away from his chest, resting them atop her knees, his hands staying over hers.

“Now, do you wanna talk about it?”

“Ya know, I really don’t.” Maggie chuckles dryly in response.

“Okay. That’s fine.” Jim hauls himself upright and sits down next to Maggie on the couch. He drapes an arm around the back and she instantly curls up against his side.

“It’s just- Since Mac promoted me to AP, there’s so much more to do at work. I feel like I’m not keeping up enough, like I’m dragging the team down. Jim, am I dragging the team down?”

“What? No. Maggie, you’re incredible at what you do. You’re so creative; you find such unique sources and angles for Will to pursue.”

“Then why do I keep fucking up, if I’m so amazing?”

“Because you’re still learning. You’ve been an AP for, what, five weeks now? Maggie, that’s nothing and look what you’ve done with it.”

“I lost a source, I pitched an awful idea, and Will _still_ thinks my name is Karen.”

“I’m 95 percent sure he’s just doing that as a joke now.”

“But still."

“Hey, Maggie?" 

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Right after Mac and I went to Peshawar, I reported an entire story backwards.”

“Like facing backwards?”

“No. Like I mixed up the side America was allied with and the side we were fighting.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That was a pretty big mistake. But you know what? I’m still here. Mac brought me back from Peshawar; she brought me to New York with her. Maggie, we moved past it. I _promise_ you, any mistake you made today will seem half as small next week. And the week after that, it’ll feel half as small again. Before long, you’ll be able to laugh at it.”

“Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you keep talking? I don’t think I can be alone with my thoughts right now.”

“Sure. What do you wanna hear?”

“Got anymore good stories from when you were imbedded?”

“God, yes. So this one time, this guy Tim- God, he was a great guy. They were all great guys. Anyway, Tim was trying to cook dinner for all of us. You’ve gotta understand, he didn’t have much to work with. But he tried. He managed to get a sheep and he was trying to season it so it didn’t actually taste like sheep. Found these little berries. We all thought they were blueberries. They tasted really good, so he put them in with the sheep. Made for a great meal, but it turns out they weren’t blueberries. They were buckthorn berries. You know what a buckthorn is?” Jim felt Maggie shake her head slightly. “It’s a natural laxative. Everyone in the group had the shits for three days. Last time we let Tim cook for us.” Jim’s chuckle resonated through Maggie’s head, the vibrations helping lull her to sleep.

The end of Jim’s story was lost to the rumble of his voice as the urge to sleep pulled her under. His lips pressing against the top of her head was the last thing she noticed before the darkness overtook her.

Maggie slept better than she had in weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's that! I hope you enjoyed it; comments are like warm, snuggly hugs.
> 
> Be on the lookout for a similar fic with Jim and Mac. It'll be up as soon as I finish writing it. So, probably in the next 43 months. Haha. But really.


End file.
